On A Pale Horse
by Gyaku no Sekai
Summary: A madman and an inhibition-reducing drug have some unintended consequences for everyone's favorite substitute shinigami. IchiHichi, bondage, MAJOR DUB-CON WARNING!


A/N: can't stop won't stop

* * *

What was up with people trying to take-over-slash-destroy Soul Society? Were they all trying to jump on Aizen's bandwagon or something? The latest attempt had been by a mad scientist a la Kageroza, and the asshole had released some kind of inhibition-reducing drug into the Seireitei's water supply. Fortunately, they had caught it before too many people had been dosed (and thanked their lucky stars that the soutaichou hadn't drunk any of the contaminated water, while simultaneously cursing those same stars that Zaraki _had_ ). But an even bigger disaster was looming on the horizon.

Ichigo had been dosed, and was nowhere to be found.

Now all of his friends were running all over the place trying to find him. A few of the captains had even joined the search, namely Hitsugaya, Ukitake, and Kyouraku, clearing their divisions before fanning out to search nearby buildings.

"Ichigo!" Rukia shouted, landing near where the Soukyoku had once stood, and frantically looking around. His reiatsu was spread throughout the area, a faint undercurrent of aggression making it bite at her own. "Shit."

"He's here, then!" Renji landed next to her, with considerably less grace.

"Somewhere. But where?" It almost seemed to be coming from under their feet… along with his inner Hollow's. "Shit!"

"Wait, I think I know! This way!" Renji led her over to a cave on the side of the hill. "There's a secret chamber around here, where Ichigo and I did our Bankai training."

Together, they found the stone covering the entrance and heaved it aside, before peering down into the training ground.

A white Getsuga Tenshou whizzed out of nowhere to slam into the wall, breaking the ladder in two and carving a deep crater into the rock. Muffled snarling reached their ears, followed by twin shouts of "Getsuga Tenshou!"

"…Maybe we should just leave them for now."

"Agreed."

* * *

Ichigo wiped the blood from his chin, a snarl curling his lips, and launched another Getsuga Tenshou at his white doppelganger. The Hollowfied zanpakutou spirit let out a snarl of his own and dodged, then fired off an attack of his own, stronger. The Shinigami broke it with his sword, then lunged at the other.

A minute later, the two of them were wrestling in the dust, blades and techniques forgotten in each's desire to gain dominance over the other. Shiro fought dirty, unashamedly so, clawing at eyes, tearing at hair, but eventually Ichigo's greater strength began to tell. The Hollow was slammed to the ground on his back, Ichigo kneeling over him. He roared and tried to knee his King in the groin, but the Shinigami blocked it, then jerked him up and slammed him back down again, hard enough to stun him for several crucial seconds.

When he came back to himself, Ichigo had returned them both to Shikai state and bound his wrists with their sword's hilt wrap, tight enough that he couldn't get free; the cloth was tougher than it looked. Even as he started struggling again, the Shinigami drove the blade into the ground up to the handle with a hiss of satisfaction. The Hollow redoubled his efforts, yanking at the cloth to try to loosen the sword and pull it free, and kicking at his King when he tried to settle between his thighs.

One of Ichigo's hands closed around his throat, choking him into submission, even as he ripped at the Hollow's inverted shihakushou. "Just _have_ to make things so _fucking_ difficult, don't you?!" Ichigo snarled, finally tearing the other's obi apart and yanking his hakama off his hips.

Shiro gasped out a laugh, tried to kick again, and the Shinigami slammed him a third time. That time the Hollow bit his tongue, and tried to spit the blood into Ichigo's face. Ichigo smashed their mouths together, but at his lips, licked the black blood out of his mouth. Then he pulled back to hiss, "Oughta fuckin' kill you," before shoving three fingers into his mouth. "Bite down and I'll cut you to pieces," didn't stop Shiro from gnawing threateningly even as he slicked the fingers with spit and blood.

The Hollowfied zanpakutou spirit howled when his Shinigami shoved on inside without warning, but his erection didn't wilt in the slightest, throbbing thick and hard between his legs. Ichigo hiked a white leg up onto one shoulder and added a second finger, scissoring them to open him up. The third and twenty seconds finished the perfunctory stretch, and the Shinigami tore off his own obi, shoved his hakama down to free his cock. He slicked himself with what was left on his fingers, then shoved in.

A Hollow scream tore free from Shiro's throat, but his free leg pulled Ichigo in closer, black-nailed fingers clutching at their zanpakutou's handle for something to hold on to as the Shinigami started to thrust. Ichigo arched with a growl of " _Fuck!_ So tight!" and rutted harder, faster, choosing to pursue release over drawing out his pleasure. The Hollow was right there with him, rolling his hips as best he could to match his pace, and hissed through his slowly healing throat.

"Fucking touch me, King!"

"Why?" Ichigo grunted, "You've always been a pain in the ass – why should I reward you for that?"

" _Fuck you!_ "

"I'd much rather fuck _you_." But he did as the Hollow wanted, grabbed his dick and started jerking.

Shiro screamed his shinigami's name where he came, his climax dragging out Ichigo's own, and both of them passed out from the intensity.

* * *

"…go. Ichigo. _Ichigo._ "

The Shinigami daikou whined and swatted weakly at the hand poking his cheek, turning his head away.

"Ichigo, wake up! The house is on fire!"

He was instantly bolt upright, then scrambling to his feet – only to curse and clutch at his hakama when they threatened to slide off his hips. "Rukia, what the hell?!"

"Ichigo, what did you _do?_ "

"What?" He followed her gaze – and then went white as his normally-inner Hollow's skin. Shiro's wrists were bound tightly by the hilt-wrap of his sword form, which was shoved so deep into the ground that it would have to be dug out. Ichigo's kimono top covered him from nipples to knees, but did nothing to disguise the fact that his inverted shihakushou had essentially been shredded, and his skin was liberally marked with black bruises, scratches, and bites, the starkest being the one on his throat that perfectly matched the shinigami's hand.

Ichigo felt his hands start to shake. No… no, he couldn't have- "Sh-Shiro?"

The Hollow shifted and groaned, his voice sounding raspier than usual. Ichigo quickly found his obi and tied up his hakama, then knelt to start undoing the knots in the hilt wrap. "Shiro – Shiro, I'm so sorry, I don't know what – gods, I'm sorry –"

"Fuck you," the Hollowfied zanpakutou spirit groaned, more to shut the Shinigami up than out of anger, "That was _fantastic_ , so don't say you're sorry. Unless you're sayin' it's never gonna happen again, in which case you're gonna spend the rest of your life _and_ afterlife apologizin'."

"…You… you're not angry?"

"Do I look angry?"

"You always look angry about something. OW! You're a pushy bottom, too!"

"Guess that makes you my service top, then, bitch!"


End file.
